


Helpless

by bendthekneejon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: As Fuck, Crack, F/M, Jon is horny as fuck, female power, pun intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendthekneejon/pseuds/bendthekneejon
Summary: Winterfell.Dany stands up to the sassy northern lords who are whining about Jon having bent the knee to her. Jon, amazed by his girlfriend’s agency and courage, gets a boner at the MOST.INAPPROPRIATE.MOMENT.Written for the awesomeSeasquidSnark.





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeasquidSnark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasquidSnark/gifts).



> This is sort of a funny fic, quite smutty, but sort of fluffy too at the end. Now, before we start (and before someone drops a comment saying this is ooc), I must say that I know that Jon Snow isn’t a man whose mind is clouded by sex on a daily basis and who “thinks with his penis” like Maisie Williams said in a recent interview (which generated some discomfort from most jon stans who know well that this dude is more rational and less impulsive than 90% of the characters in this godforsaken series/saga). Phew. Okay. That said…try not to think about that and just enjoy Jon’s inappropriate erection and the banging that comes afterward. 
> 
> This was such a fun prompt by SeasquidSnark! I'm super super late but I hope you enjoy it, dear! <3 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you [theendlessrivers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theendlessrivers/) and [TheScarletGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScarletGarden/) for the beta work! You guys are the best!

A wave of shouts invaded every corner of the Great Hall of Winterfell. Jon couldn’t make out what each of them were saying, he could only distinguish anger behind all of them. Yet he was more worried about how Dany was feeling as she walked by his side, taking a seat with him at the main table and having to endure the whines and grumblings of the northern lords. Sansa took a seat at Jon’s other side. Daenerys was right in the center: Winterfell was hers now.

“Enough!” he finally raised his voice. What sort of man allowed such things to be said to the woman he loved? “You will all treat our Queen with respect.”

“She’s _not_ our queen!” Lord Manderly spat. “She will never be.”

“We chose _you_ as King in the North!” Lord Glover said. “To be the independent kingdom we ought to be! We _trusted_ you!”

“And I’m asking you to trust her,” Jon insisted.

Dany shifted in her seat. It was not fair for her to endure this, after all the sacrifices she had made and was willing to make to save the country.

A hundred reasons to defend her, to justify his actions, dove into his mind. He didn’t know which of them to say first: she was selfless, she was kind, she was brave, a warrior! She had crossed the world to save him and his men beyond the wall. In his hesitation, though, the lords’ grumbles won over his thoughts.

“When has it ended well for a northerner to go south? To meet with a Targaryen?!”

“Can’t you see?” He frowned. “If she were her father’s daughter, I wouldn’t be here. _She_ wouldn’t be here _supporting_ our cause. You all said I would die if I went South, yet here I am, alive and well.”

“But, Jon!” Sansa intervened loudly. “After everything we’ve done for the North to be independent! Why give it up so easily?”

Jon closed his hands in fists. Hadn’t he already told her not to question him in public?

Arya looked at him with sad eyes, yet silent. He could not bear that look on his sister’s face.

“We _begged_ you not to go south. And you still did," said Lord Manderly. "We _begged_ you to be careful with the Dragon Queen, yet you _gave Winterfell to her!_ You don’t listen to your people! You don’t _care_ about your people.”

Dany stood up fiercely, pushing her chair back in the process. “He doesn’t _care_ about his people?!” Her resounding voice silenced the room. She clenched her hands in fists on either side of her body. Her words echoed in the hall. Undoubtedly, Jon thought, she had fire inside her. “Forgive me, but I cannot recall a time when Jon Snow hasn’t cared about his people…about _all people_ , to be clearer. This is not just about protecting the northerners; this is about protecting _every inhabitant of Westeros_.”

“He told us he’d go south for dragonglass…” said Lord Karstark.

“And besides dragonglass he’s coming back with a larger army and two dragons,” Dany retorted.

“But he’s also coming back _without_ the North…” he replied.

“Silence!” Jon exclaimed, standing up. “Let the Queen speak.”

“She’s not _our_ queen,” Lord Glover said again. “How could she be? You bring us the Mad King’s daughter and a _Lannister!_ ” He pointed at Tyrion. The reminder of his presence lit the fuse again and the roars restarted.

“My lords!” Jon interrupted. “Lord Tyrion has chosen to side against his family! And if Daenerys Targaryen were the Mad King’s daughter, she wouldn’t be here, wanting to fight this war alongside us. She would have murdered me and taken the Seven Kingdoms already!” he pressed his fists on the hard table, leaning forward, repeating the same argument yet again.

Dany stood next to him with her head held high, not moving an inch. Unflinching. She had been through hell and back, it was no surprise that she could endure this mess. She gave him a slight nod, as if letting him know that she was alright, that she would go on. Jon sat down to let her speak.

“Did you see, my lords,” she started, “the people who followed and protected Jon Snow and I as we rode into Winterfell? Some of them are around you, right now.” She signaled with her hand for the audience to look around. Some heads turned to do so, coveting around the room, yet some refused to move in defiance of her authority. “Dothraki, Unsullied from Astapor, Varys of Lys, Missandei of Naath, Tyrion Lannister-” that name made the lords grumble, “of Casterly Rock. If there is something that marks us, is that we all come from different sides of the world and have united for a cause. Our _current_ cause, though, has _changed_. Our current cause is to save Westeros from an army which has no other purpose than to turn every living being into one of them. We can’t keep on thinking in terms of the North against the South! We must look past our differences.”

Jon knew Dany was smart. He knew she a strong, wise ruler, yet the more time he spent with her, the more pleasant surprises he came across. But when he looked at the lords in front of them, he only saw eyes rolling and jaws tightening. He wanted to stand up and defend her. Before he could do so, though, she went on.

“My Lords," she placed her hands on the table, "what do you value more? Your independence or your life?”

The contrast of the shouts they had heard when they had arrived against the current silence was baffling. Jon realized he was holding his breath and let it go. The more he watched the woman he loved—tilting his head up not to miss a single expression from her face nor a single word coming out of her mouth—the more he realized there was no need to worry about her. He held back a smile as he watched her from below, it would seem inappropriate right now. It would give away his feelings for her. It would only create further conflict and speculation about his reasons for bending the knee. Yet a smile wasn’t the only thing that began to bloom in him and that he was holding back. With every word she said out loud, so powerful, so penetrating, so true, a jolt of energy ran through his body, all the way to his member. He shifted his legs, hoping it would pass soon.

 _The blood of the dragon._ It was as inevitable as inappropriate to get aroused in this situation. He would gladly fight a thousand men to defend her, but she could do it on her own. Dany looked tall as she stood next to him, with her head held high. Firm. She was in control, and he, inevitably, remembered all the ways she could be in control above him, in bed, touching him in ways that made him completely powerless, how her hands and mouth could drag him to his knees and make him gladly give her whatever she wanted from him.

“I’m not here to gain allies to win a throne. I’m here to fight against the army of the dead, and we’re running out of time.” Hearing his words coming out of her mouth was proof of her growing trust in him. He pursed his lips, trying to get ahold of himself and the feeling on his groin that kept on intensifying the more she showed her courage. “We have no time to think about divisions. From now on, we must all be one _: the living._ Against the dead.”

She was showing her very essence: selfless, devoted to the people, yet iron-handed. This was with whom he had fallen in love with. Daenerys, so kind and loving, yet so strong, bold, and fearless. His erection grew as he watched her. He stared down at the table, focusing on the cracks on the wood, trying to force his thoughts out of the striking, arousing agency that Dany had. _Stormborn. The unburnt_. From where did this small woman get so much strength?!

“Isn’t your survival more important than your pride?” she said loudly, and he turned to look up at her again in surprise. She had already used those words with him. It was a powerful, reflective question. He, in turn, was sure he had used those words before, yet couldn’t put a finger on the exact moment. This was another evidence of their connection, of their love, which improperly increased his attraction to her in bodily reactions.

Dany’s eyes coveted around the room, making sure she looked at the face of every single lord and lady in there. Jon exhaled, trying to free some of the energy trapped in him. Yet the attempt was in vain. The sexual energy in him was abundant and could only be released in one way.

Whispers and murmurs filled the room. How stubborn could the northerners be? He tried to speak to support her words, yet his mind was clouded. A twitch between his legs was luring his thoughts in, keeping them hostage to the point where he couldn’t make out an argument to back her up, no matter how much he wanted to defend her. So it was her who went on. “Would you rather join _our_ army,” signaling to Jon with her hand, “or the Night King’s army?!”

 _By the old gods and the new! Those words were damn true, damn right,_ he thought as her loud voice echoed around the hall. Such a strong voice, coming out of such small body, reminded him of how it sounded in bed: a small body, but how loud her voice sounded when he pleased her! He needed an excuse for them to go to his chambers. Now.

“My Lords,” Jon said, he wanted to stand up but feared his erection would show. “You must rest. Take in every word the Queen has spoken. These are her true motivations, nothing else. She’s selfless, she’s a fighter. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes when we were beyond the wall.” He swallowed notoriously and shifted his legs again, trying to distract himself from his mild pain. “On the morrow, we’ll discuss further on our strategy against the Army of the Dead. We cannot discuss it hot-headed, we must be calm and rational when we do so.”

On one hand, yes, the lords needed to be less angry and emotional when discussing war strategies. But _hell_ , he couldn’t deny he was talking about himself, he was the hot-headed one, he was the one who couldn’t go on and who needed _“rest”_ —it was the last thing he needed, but just like rest, what he needed had to be done in a bed. He was the one not being rational right now, even though he knew many praised him for being so, for being cold-headed, for being able to control his impulses—his _sexual_ impulses. He had been a brother of the Night’s Watch, for fuck’s sake! He had kept in his sexual needs for _years_ , yet with Dany by his side, he couldn’t keep on holding himself back another five minutes or he would _burst!_

They dismissed the lords and ladies and Jon felt lucky to be wearing a long doublet that hid his bulge. He covered himself with his cape, anyway, and as they stood up to leave, he told Dany, “We have to go to our chambers.” _Our_ chambers. The main chambers of Winterfell, just for him and her. The thought of it—the widest bed in the castle for them both—hardened his member even more. He frowned, shutting his eyes in reaction.

“What happened?” Dany asked, floored by his expression. “Is everything alright? Oh Jon, I hope they trust me,” she whispered to him. “Did I do well? They are more stubborn than I thought they would be!”

“Aye, you did well,” Jon said, restraining himself from pulling her by the arm to take her upstairs. Any physical contact could raise suspicions. “I couldn’t have done it better.”

“Your Grace, if I may-” Davos told Jon, yet he only shook his head.

“On the morrow, Davos. It’s late, it’s time to rest. On the morrow we’ll speak, cold-headed.” Jon insisted, waving a hand. He kept on walking with Dany by his side. Yet he heard some footsteps behind saying, “Jon…”

He sighed. _Sansa_. If they started arguing, they wouldn’t be done for the next couple of hours, so he just shook his head again and said, “On the morrow, Sansa. You must be tired.”

“I’m not.”

Jon exhaled with his eyes shut. “I’m falling asleep,” he said, yet he was more awake than he had been all day, and his body was begging him to be as alive as he could be. “On the morrow, please. Now if you allow me, I’ll show the Queen to the guest room.”

Sansa nodded. Jon left her with a goodnight and Dany followed him along the corridor, in the opposite direction to the main guest room, but he didn’t mind. Sansa would have to know about their romance at some point. Finally, when they were alone in the stillness and darkness of the upstairs corridor, Jon held Dany by the arm and led her into their chambers.

“You should get some rest now,” Dany said, caressing his arm. She had also thought it was true that he was falling asleep.

Yet he closed the door behind them and pushed her against it, pressing his body against hers. “I’m not tired,” he said.

She gasped—he had caught her off guard. “The King in the North… _lies?”_ she jested.

“Only when it’s a matter of life and death,” he said, sliding his hands down the sides of her torso. “And I’m not a king anymore, I’m all yours.” He added, thrusting his hips against hers.

 _“Jon,”_ she breathed with a chuckle. “You’re-” she palmed his bulge over his breeches, which made his cock jerk. “You’re hard?” Jon nodded with a desperate frown. His breath was already quickening. “Have you been like this in the Great Hall?”

He was much harder now, but had no time for explanations, so he just nodded.

She laughed and held his face between her hands to press a kiss to his lips. He opened his mouth wide, though, and she ended up doing so as well. He pressed her body further against the door, making her hum.

“Help me get this dress off. It’s the heaviest I’ve ever worn.”

She turned around and lifted her hair for him to unlace it. The folds of her dress opened up like two curtains, presenting her shoulder blades to him, and he couldn’t help pressing his lips on her bare neck all the way down to her shoulders, lowering the sleeves of her dress down her arms, making her chuckle as she held her hair high.

When he finished unlacing her dress and she pushed it down, he let go and helped her push down her smallclothes as he watched her arse. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer, his cock was hurting from anticipation. She turned around and kissed him on the lips before asking, “What aroused you in the Great Hall?” She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Was it my pretty northern dress?” another tiny kiss, “my new northern braids,” another tiny, yet delicious kiss, “or was it my speech?” He nodded, making her laugh.

The next time she pressed a tiny kiss to his lips, though, he opened his mouth as widely as he could, ready to devour her. Yet she held his face, looked him in the eye, and said, “I meant every word, Jon. We’re in this together. Now and always.” He wanted to reply and promise the same to her, but she pulled his face to hers fiercely before he could do so. Her sweet lips were inescapable. She hugged him by the neck, pressed her body against his, and they—quite clumsily—walked that way to the bed. She pulled down his briefs and pushed him to the bed, making him lay face-up.

“So you like your women fierce?” she smirked as she placed herself on her fours on the mattress. “You like it when they defy men? When they don’t fear men?” Jon nodded, supporting himself up with his elbows. She crawled over to him. “Well, I’ve defied countless men in my life to fear them, Jon.” She sat down on his lap, brushing his cock with her mound as she did. A moan escaped his lips unwittingly. “A pity you weren’t there to watch me all those times. We could’ve had many a fun night.”

“Dany,” he let out a strangled breath, an attempt of a plea, as he watched her glistening cunt right behind his cock.

She moved softly up and down, rubbing her mound against his cock. His breathing quickened even more, and he held both her knees to try to get a hold of himself.

“ _Mmm,_ ” she hummed with a frown, letting her head fall back, arching her back, which stretched her breasts. “Tell me,” she circled softly the tip of his cock with her thumb. “What was it that you liked the most?”

He took a deep breath with his eyes shut. If he stared at her hand on his hard cock he would only get more desperate. “W-whe-w-”

“Huh?” she chuckled. “Tell me…and you’ll get what you want.”

“Whe-when you said-” he breathed, “we are one people.”

 _“We are one people,”_ she repeated, pushing his cock between her outer folds, right against her nub. Its warmth made him moan. She rubbed herself up and down on his shaft. “What else?”

He was praised for his skills in battle, yet with her he was weak, helpless, there was nothing he could do but to give in to whatever she begged.

“Y-your survival…more important-”

“…More important than your pride,” she finished, rubbing herself harder against him. An unannounced moan caught him off guard. “Did it bring back memories?” she smiled.

He nodded quickly, staring at their genitals and their slow, torturous dance. His entire body begged for more: his toes curled, his knees bent up slightly. She rested a hand on one of them as she pressed his cock inside the other and slowly rubbed herself along its length. His hands slid from his thighs to her center, circling her nub with his thumb, wanting for her to get as desperate for him as he was for her. She shut her eyes and let out a moan, a song that went along with the dance of her chest as she breathed deeply.

Once again, he was watching her from below. This woman, only small in stature, seemed so tall in front of him, impotent, fearless. But now, she was finally for his eyes exclusively, naked in front of him, allowing him to see her as no one else could. There was nothing he wanted more than the fiercest, bravest woman in the world to ride him as she did with her dragons.

She thrust her hips towards his fingers, and the easiness with which he could curl them against her skin evidenced how wet she was. So he held his cock in his hands to rub her with it once more, and as soon as they made contact, she lifted her hips to place herself on top of it. _Finally_. She helped him position it on her entrance and sat on it. She only hissed, yet he let out a moan. He had been waiting for this for too long. She thrust once, twice, while he kept a tight grip of her hips.

 _Finally,_ the woman he adored and admired was on top of him, surrounding him, loving him. He lifted his hips to be as deep inside her as possible, sliding in and out easily, yet he was losing control. The tension in his muscles and his unrestrained moves hinted he was about to be done. He tried to hold it in, but it was too late, his seed was already spilling inside her, flooding her insides. The feeling of it made her gasp and chuckle.

He looked at her with a frown of embarrassment. “I…I’m sorry.” She only shook her head with a laugh, but did not move out of him. “I…had been hard for…” he breathed deeply, “so long.”

She lowered her body towards him and he supported himself with an elbow to lean up and meet her halfway. Their lips met in a tender kiss that got painfully interrupted to pull pillows behind his back for him to rest his back and sit, so that they could keep on kissing comfortably, softly, as he remained inside her.

Lips grazing one another, tongues meeting, mouths opened wide against each other while their hands roamed, explored. _United_. Her fingertips traveled up from his shoulder until reaching his ear, scratching the skin behind it and then massaging his earlobe. The back of his fingers slid down her torso, from under her armpits to her arse, squeezing her buttocks when he finally reached them.

He wanted to make sure she would finish, though. He let go of her lips and ducked his head to kiss one of her breasts. She pushed her hair to one side and he freely enjoyed her erect nipple between his lips, making her hum and kiss his head, scratching the nape of his neck softly. His hands kept on traveling along her thighs until they fell on her cunt again to please her nub just as he had been doing before, moving quickly, deliciously, hearing its low sound of her tiny moans among the stillness of the room. She started thrusting her hips once again, and her warm walls contracted repeatedly around him, and with such a massage, he inevitably got hard again.

She hugged his head, circling her hips around him, pushing her tongue into his mouth. She started pumping in and out of him again, and their lips reconnected as they both sat up. Fused. His hands roamed around her back, squeezing her buttocks, then up again to her lower back, scratching it softly. He let go of her lips and buried his face on her neck, opening his mouth wide against her soft and warm skin, trailing deep kisses over it as she let her head fall back and her hair met his hands on her lower back, grazing them.

She sat up to adjust her body placing her feet behind his waist and her knees up and hugging him around his head again before kissed his lips. The rhythm was steadier now. He cupped a breast with one hand, taking in every bit of her that he could.

Yes, he loved to see her tall, fierce, powerful. But she was not just the Mother of Dragons. He had fallen in love with Dany. And Dany was with whom he embraced, kissed, touched every bit of each other. Sometimes she was on top, sometimes he was; sometimes their bodies were tangled, bound together, with their faces at the same level, gazes nailed on one another—even though sometimes that made them chuckle.

Yes, he admired the fierce woman who rode dragons and convinced crowds of men who loathed her to side with her, yet Dany was the one who asked him afterward if she had done alright, if he thought she had sounded convincing enough. Dany, who had lived a life so similar to his, whose fears and wishes were so close to his, despite having lived on the opposite side of the world, was who he loved.

They finished intertwined, moaning into each other’s mouths, his seed running hot into her once again. He hoped with all his heart that it would take root, and he knew she did too.

He knew their discussion with the northern lords wasn’t over. He knew there were explanations he would have to give to his family for his closeness with Dany when he was trying to get her into his chambers, yet those were troubles for the morrow. Right now, they were fused, on their own, isolated from everyone who was either against them or demanded explanations. If the weight of saving humanity wasn’t on their shoulders, he would gladly stay with her like this and never move.

“You were…staggering. You left them speechless,” he placed a soft kiss on her neck. “What a bold woman, you are.”

She sighed, caressing his arm from his shoulder to his elbow. “I hope they understand.”

"Only a fool would not do so." He kissed her jaw. "You truly are a dragon.”

“A dragon,” she chuckled and pulled up his face to place a tiny kiss to his lips. “Did the blood of the dragon arouse you earlier?” He nodded and tried to hide an embarrassed giggle by pressing another kiss to her lips. “It’s your turn, then.” He could hear her smiling. “You’ve seen the dragon, now let your inner wolf show.”

He knew a King should not dismiss his subjects for erections and sexual desires, but he wasn’t a king no more. He was Dany’s. All hers, as she was his.

**Author's Note:**

> D&D I’m begging you I’m fucking BEGGING YOU to PLEASE include at least ONE more jonerys sex scene in s8 and I can die happy pleaseeee let me see Jon nailing Dany against Dragonstone’s walls and GIVE.US.PAINTED.TABLE.SEX!! PLEASE!!  
> If they don’t, well, I’ll guess I’ll write much more smut to compensate.


End file.
